Fic: The Oncoming Storm (Slash, AU, Janto 28/40 Act 1/4)
Author: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Random Shoes"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 28 "Random Shoes"
Act I
Two weeks later…
It was bad enough to be woken up for early morning questions and emergencies. It was worse to come in voluntarily at the ungodly hour of seven.
Owen roused from his light dose slouched against the cog door as it rolled to his left. He barely registered the Hub as he trudged up the steps. He yawned into his fist. Bloody indecent hour, if anyone asked him.
The Hub was brightly lit; the pterodactyl cawed above him, and Owen blearily looked around him as he shrugged out of his jacket. He took an appreciative sniff of the air; it smelled of roasted beans and toast. He turned and jumped when something seemed to pop up from the kitchen area behind the counter.
Owen shouted because it shouted, although who shouted first wasn't clear; just that it was very loud and sudden enough that it felt like his insides were now on his outsides. He staggered back, tripped over Tosh's stupid portable CPU or whatever shit she was working on and fell flat on his ass just as he pulled out his gun. He landed slumped against the back of his own chair, his legs tangled with whatever junk was on the floor, and papers spilling over his head.
"Ianto?" Owen blurted out in disbelief when the papers stopped falling.
"Owen?" Ianto stood behind the counter looking very much in a state, breathing heavily as if he had been running hard. His eyes were huge, his face white. Not surprising considering Owen currently has a gun pointed at him.
Alien? Clone? Owen's heart hammered and he grabbed at his chest. He gasped. "Christ, Jonesy!" he bellowed. "I think you took ten years out of my life!"
The gun seemed to be forgotten as Ianto got over his shock. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?"
Ianto glowered with an indignity Owen was tempted to smack off his face. "I work here!"
"Bulletin, Jonesy, so do I!"
"Not at this hour! You're early!"
"Oi! What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means exactly what you hear! You're early! You're never early! In fact, you're never even on time! You're always late!"
Ianto had a point-not that he would ever tell Teaboy that. Owen scowled.
Ianto pointed a shaky finger at Owen's drawn weapon. "Mind pointing that elsewhere?"
Begrudgingly, Owen lowered his weapon. "Thought you were a Weevil," he muttered.
Ianto gaped at him. "A Weevil who'd escaped, turned on all the lights, made toast and started brewing Arabica coffee?" Ianto snapped.
…Okay, when Ianto put it that way…
Owen rolled his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at the light blue shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and, judging from what he can see from where Ianto was slouched behind the counter, it was untucked too.
"Out of uniform, aren't you?" Owen jutted his chin out towards Ianto.
Ianto looked startled, glancing down at himself as if he just remembered. He ran a harried hand through his hair.
"I was cleaning," Ianto muttered, suddenly subdued. He appeared embarrassed to have been caught in something other than his suits. Bloke dressed much too pretty compared to the rest of their lot anyway.
"You know, you're early, too," Owen pointed out. "What? That worried someone was going to try and make coffee with your precious machine?" Ruddy Jack refused to buy one of those automatic ones, insisting the antique was better. Except the only one who could make it work was Teaboy.
Ianto folded his arms, his mouth pressed thin, unhappy. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I might as well be here and-"
"Make coffee?" Owen scoffed. He frowned at Jones. Come to think of it, Jonesy had appeared a little ragged lately. Even his usually carefully combed hair was a bit wild today and the missing tie gave him an itinerant look.
"Couldn't sleep?" Owen frowned. His girlfriend's death and that eventful sojourn to the countryside wasn't that long ago. He drew closer to the kitchen area, his eyes giving Ianto a medical scrutiny.
Ianto bristled. "Yes, I couldn't sleep, and I'm trying to keep this area clean, so kindly back away from the vicinity!"
Owen's temper flared. "Listen you prat! If you can't sleep, that might be due to a medical condition and guess what? I'm a doctor!"
Ianto stared for a second. "Only you could make concern sound like an insult."
Growling, Owen was half-tempted to pull out his gun again. He turned sharply on his heels back towards the medical bay. "Fine! Just get me a black coffee since you're already there then!"
"You want coffee? Now?" Ianto sounded strangled.
Owen threw up his arms. "You know what? I'll get it myse-"
"Ianto!"
Jack's voice echoed through the entire Hub. Ianto blew out a sigh, but Owen didn't turn around to face Jack's office. The door opened a crack and Jack's head popped out.
"What's going on? Does it take that long for coffee?" Jack complained. He blinked at Owen in surprise.
"Owen? What are you doing here?"
Okay, so maybe he was late twice…three tim-alright, a couple of times! Owen glowered at Jack.
"What you mean what am I doing here? You asked me to come in early today!"
"Jack?" Ianto, for some reason, yelped.
Jack, or at least the part visible by the door, blinked. "Was that today?" Jack suddenly looked sheepish. Owen, however, wasn't fooled. The Captain was never innocent.
Owen scoffed. "You asked me yesterday to come here and wait for that body from Bradfield." Pointless though. Owen was sure the body had nothing extraterrestrial about it.
The broad grin Jack gave him was suspicious. It faded a little at Ianto's strange low growl.
"Actually, could you drive over there and get it instead?" Jack grimaced. "I don't want a repeat of Newport."
Owen winced as well. Getting the wrong body wasn't bad, but when their body woke up in the morgue and started laying hordes of eggs of carnivorous aliens, that was worse.
"I drove all this way and now you want me to drive some more to Bradfield?"
Jack had the nerve to pout. "Please? Although, if you want, you could stay and help Tosh with the new artifact datab-"
"Bye." Owen did a complete circle, pivoted on his heel and headed back towards the cog door.
The coffee bubbled overhead on the counter as he peered into the cabinets below for clean mugs. Ianto heard the alarms and mechanical whoops as Owen exited Torchwood for the hour drive to Bradfield but he didn't dare look up, even when a shadow crossed over him.
"He's gone, Ianto."
It wasn't the fact that Jack stood over him. It wasn't because he sounded more like he was trying to subdue his laughter than remorse. Nor was it the fact that Owen Harper had just pointed a gun at him.
It was the fact that it was cold in here. That proved to be completely intolerable. Parts of him were freezing.
"Ianto?"
Ianto tilted his head up and found Jack leaning over the counter peering down at him, his elbows on its surface, his chin propped up with both hands.
"Technically," Jack said lightly, but the smile he offered was contrite, "this was not my fault."
Ianto glowered. "Please tell me you brought my trousers out. It's cold."
Jack pouted, his lower lip lush and begging for nibbling. Ianto refused to be swayed. "What do you need your pants for?" His teeth flashed brilliantly. "I think you have nice legs and pretty feet."
It was embarrassing enough when Lisa commented on his feet. It was too strange when Jack complimented them and called them pretty-was it alright for a man to call another man 'pretty' even if it was just his feet?-that Ianto didn't know how to react except to feel heat creep up his neck and mumble "Thank you."
Ianto stayed crouched on the balls of his feet-bare feet, mind you-still wary someone might walk in on them. It was very hard to stand there radiating indignation; especially in just your shorts and in someone else's shirt.
"This is the last time I am ever getting you your coffee without getting completely dressed first, Jack Harkness." Ianto craned his neck and gave the cog doors another suspicious glance. "Never ever again!"
"I didn't know Owen was going to waltz in while you were out here!" Jack protested.
"You told him to come in early!"
"I forgot!" Jack defended himself. He smiled, his eyes smoky as he considered Ianto. "I was distracted."
Ianto flushed. Then, he growled at himself. No, he was mad at Jack; completely and utterly infuriated with him. Besides, it was nice to be able to be mad without fearing upsetting the delicate sensibilities of a girlfriend. Though Lisa often declared she wasn't a soft heart, she had the uncanny ability to turn his frustrations toward her into a bouquet of jasmine and abject apologies. Here-unless Jack burst into tears and he hoped not-Ianto found he didn't need to watch his temper. There is nothing delicate about Jack Harkness and Ianto was finding it strangely thrilling he needn't hold back.
"Sorry," Jack offered, his blue eyes sincere.
Ianto grunted, unimpressed. He continued to rummage about the cabinets. Didn't he hide some chocolate digestives behind the utensils? Damn it, Owen.
"Owen never comes in early, even when I do ask, how was I supposed to know he would actually follow orders for once?"
Ianto's head shot up. "Can you imagine what torture he would put me through if he found me like…like…" Ianto gestured towards himself and nearly threw himself off balance in the process. "This…this isn't even my shirt!"
"It looks good on you," Jack offered, the leer audible.
Ianto narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "If you're trying to convince me of your remorse, that comment does not bode well in your favor."
"You didn't have to make me coffee."
"You kept poking me awake with your finger to make coffee," Ianto snapped. "Of course I had to make the coffee!" He lowered his eyes to the cabinets before Jack's hangdog impression swayed him.
"Ianto?"
Suspicious, Ianto looked up to Jack's cheeky grin.
"That wasn't my finger."
Ianto stared at Jack for a few eye blinks and felt a flush fly up his face. Ianto ducked his head at Jack's snicker.
"I'm not talking to you right now," Ianto warned.
"Aww…"
Despite Jack's cajoling, Ianto stayed silent. He bit back a smile as Jack vainly defended himself. Finally, Jack fell into a sullen silence, his fingers absently rapping on the counter in a two-four beat until…
"Ianto?" This time, Jack sounded thoughtful.
Lifting his head up, Ianto spied Jack frowning slightly at something behind Ianto to his left. Ianto followed his gaze to the stasis jars. One jar contained a hand that wiggled hello in the bubbling liquid.
Damn.
He'd hoped Jack wouldn't notice yet. Ianto didn't know why he'd moved it. He caught Jack one night sitting on his desk, looking at it, looking lost, looking far away. And suddenly, while Jack took a shower, Ianto took it on an impulse and attached it outside with the other jar.
"Isn't that…" Jack trailed off.
Ianto hastily turned his head back towards the cabinets. Sugar. Sugar. He remembered they had some sort of sweetener here.
"Thought it might be better out here," Ianto murmured. It was the truth at least. He raised his eyes to Jack's puzzled ones. His stomach clenched. "More consistent power," Ianto said, his gaze steady on him. "There's a dedicated power source running into the column."
Jack glanced over to the column again. His eyes glazed over.
Something strange flitted across his face. "I didn't realize it was gone," Jack murmured.
Good, Ianto thought fiercely. He paused at his own vehemence. Where did that come from? "It'll be better out here," Ianto repeated.
Jack stared at it wordlessly. His brow furrowed and that uncertainty drifted over his face again.
Ianto didn't know why he hated that look; it was the same look that shrouded Jack in London while he walked behind the damn Doctor's shadow. It wasn't Jack; not the Jack who pressed close to him at night, not the Jack who smiled at him and made him feel like he was all alone in a room with Jack. No, there were many faces Ianto stroked, memorized, kissed, but that was not one of them. This Jack belonged to an alien time traveler; a lofty presence Ianto found himself trying to compete against.
"You don't have to watch it all the time," Ianto stayed low against the counters because it hurt to see that lost look on Jack's face.
"I know." Jack gave a weak disparaging laugh. "He might not ever come back."
Would that be so terrible, Ianto wanted to ask. Out loud, Ianto just made a sympathetic sound that stuck in his throat.
"I don't even know if he could fix me," Jack said, suddenly dejected.
"There's nothing to fix," Ianto muttered, getting a scoff in response.
"You know," Ianto tried to distract Jack because this talk was too depressing. "Tosh may walk in any minute. You might enjoy the view and it would probably indulge the secret exhibitionist I suspect is in you, it will probably shock the poor girl to see me this underdressed."
Jack blinked, roused as if he had been sleeping. Jack's brow smoothed over and he smiled over the counter at him, his eyes warming to a degree.
"Well, while I think Tosh could use a little excitement…" Jack reached down a hand.
Ianto begrudgingly took the help and rose to his feet. As soon as he straightened, however, Ianto started.
"Jack! For God's sake, man, get dressed!"
Jack looked down himself. He appeared baffled. "I am!"
"Throwing a shirt over yourself is not getting dressed!" Ianto yelped. No, that was not dressed, not when the thin shirt was giving Ianto generous glimpses of flawless flesh, spots still pink and glistening from his mouth, his hands, his-bollocks. It was suddenly very warm and uncomfortable standing there.
Jack pointedly looked at Ianto's crotch and then leveled his gaze at him. His mouth quirked.
Jack stood back and leaned again one of the railings. He was unashamed of his nudity, his long legs crossed and leading up to a lean, muscled torso, nicely broad shoulders, all narrowing to a bone-meltingly sweet smile. The shirt teased Ianto with peeks of Jack's cock, already matching the interest Ianto's was starting to display in his shorts.
Unfair. Utterly unfair. He was supposed to be angry with him right now. Very angry. Infuriated even. What witchcraft did Jack cast over him? Only Lisa ever drove him to primal distraction like this. His anger dissipated to another heated emotion.
Ianto's shoulders slumped. He knew when a battle was lost. He shut off the coffee for now, made his way around the kitchen area and walked right up to Jack.
The delight on Jack's face, the hopeful glint in his eyes was very infectious.
"You sure you want me to get dressed?" Jack waggled his brow.
Ianto smiled tentatively back. "Nope." He took Jack by the hand and pulled, walking back towards Jack's office, Jack following obediently behind him. He could feel Jack's glee like a heat wave on his back. By the time he shut the door to Jack's office again Jack pounced.
They never made it to the hatchway.
Act II
Additional Notes: Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Random Shoes"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 28 "Random Shoes"
Act I
Two weeks later…
It was bad enough to be woken up for early morning questions and emergencies. It was worse to come in voluntarily at the ungodly hour of seven.
Owen roused from his light dose slouched against the cog door as it rolled to his left. He barely registered the Hub as he trudged up the steps. He yawned into his fist. Bloody indecent hour, if anyone asked him.
The Hub was brightly lit; the pterodactyl cawed above him, and Owen blearily looked around him as he shrugged out of his jacket. He took an appreciative sniff of the air; it smelled of roasted beans and toast. He turned and jumped when something seemed to pop up from the kitchen area behind the counter.
Owen shouted because it shouted, although who shouted first wasn't clear; just that it was very loud and sudden enough that it felt like his insides were now on his outsides. He staggered back, tripped over Tosh's stupid portable CPU or whatever shit she was working on and fell flat on his ass just as he pulled out his gun. He landed slumped against the back of his own chair, his legs tangled with whatever junk was on the floor, and papers spilling over his head.
"Ianto?" Owen blurted out in disbelief when the papers stopped falling.
"Owen?" Ianto stood behind the counter looking very much in a state, breathing heavily as if he had been running hard. His eyes were huge, his face white. Not surprising considering Owen currently has a gun pointed at him.
Alien? Clone? Owen's heart hammered and he grabbed at his chest. He gasped. "Christ, Jonesy!" he bellowed. "I think you took ten years out of my life!"
The gun seemed to be forgotten as Ianto got over his shock. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?"
Ianto glowered with an indignity Owen was tempted to smack off his face. "I work here!"
"Bulletin, Jonesy, so do I!"
"Not at this hour! You're early!"
"Oi! What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means exactly what you hear! You're early! You're never early! In fact, you're never even on time! You're always late!"
Ianto had a point-not that he would ever tell Teaboy that. Owen scowled.
Ianto pointed a shaky finger at Owen's drawn weapon. "Mind pointing that elsewhere?"
Begrudgingly, Owen lowered his weapon. "Thought you were a Weevil," he muttered.
Ianto gaped at him. "A Weevil who'd escaped, turned on all the lights, made toast and started brewing Arabica coffee?" Ianto snapped.
…Okay, when Ianto put it that way…
Owen rolled his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at the light blue shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and, judging from what he can see from where Ianto was slouched behind the counter, it was untucked too.
"Out of uniform, aren't you?" Owen jutted his chin out towards Ianto.
Ianto looked startled, glancing down at himself as if he just remembered. He ran a harried hand through his hair.
"I was cleaning," Ianto muttered, suddenly subdued. He appeared embarrassed to have been caught in something other than his suits. Bloke dressed much too pretty compared to the rest of their lot anyway.
"You know, you're early, too," Owen pointed out. "What? That worried someone was going to try and make coffee with your precious machine?" Ruddy Jack refused to buy one of those automatic ones, insisting the antique was better. Except the only one who could make it work was Teaboy.
Ianto folded his arms, his mouth pressed thin, unhappy. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I might as well be here and-"
"Make coffee?" Owen scoffed. He frowned at Jones. Come to think of it, Jonesy had appeared a little ragged lately. Even his usually carefully combed hair was a bit wild today and the missing tie gave him an itinerant look.
"Couldn't sleep?" Owen frowned. His girlfriend's death and that eventful sojourn to the countryside wasn't that long ago. He drew closer to the kitchen area, his eyes giving Ianto a medical scrutiny.
Ianto bristled. "Yes, I couldn't sleep, and I'm trying to keep this area clean, so kindly back away from the vicinity!"
Owen's temper flared. "Listen you prat! If you can't sleep, that might be due to a medical condition and guess what? I'm a doctor!"
Ianto stared for a second. "Only you could make concern sound like an insult."
Growling, Owen was half-tempted to pull out his gun again. He turned sharply on his heels back towards the medical bay. "Fine! Just get me a black coffee since you're already there then!"
"You want coffee? Now?" Ianto sounded strangled.
Owen threw up his arms. "You know what? I'll get it myse-"
"Ianto!"
Jack's voice echoed through the entire Hub. Ianto blew out a sigh, but Owen didn't turn around to face Jack's office. The door opened a crack and Jack's head popped out.
"What's going on? Does it take that long for coffee?" Jack complained. He blinked at Owen in surprise.
"Owen? What are you doing here?"
Okay, so maybe he was late twice…three tim-alright, a couple of times! Owen glowered at Jack.
"What you mean what am I doing here? You asked me to come in early today!"
"Jack?" Ianto, for some reason, yelped.
Jack, or at least the part visible by the door, blinked. "Was that today?" Jack suddenly looked sheepish. Owen, however, wasn't fooled. The Captain was never innocent.
Owen scoffed. "You asked me yesterday to come here and wait for that body from Bradfield." Pointless though. Owen was sure the body had nothing extraterrestrial about it.
The broad grin Jack gave him was suspicious. It faded a little at Ianto's strange low growl.
"Actually, could you drive over there and get it instead?" Jack grimaced. "I don't want a repeat of Newport."
Owen winced as well. Getting the wrong body wasn't bad, but when their body woke up in the morgue and started laying hordes of eggs of carnivorous aliens, that was worse.
"I drove all this way and now you want me to drive some more to Bradfield?"
Jack had the nerve to pout. "Please? Although, if you want, you could stay and help Tosh with the new artifact datab-"
"Bye." Owen did a complete circle, pivoted on his heel and headed back towards the cog door.
The coffee bubbled overhead on the counter as he peered into the cabinets below for clean mugs. Ianto heard the alarms and mechanical whoops as Owen exited Torchwood for the hour drive to Bradfield but he didn't dare look up, even when a shadow crossed over him.
"He's gone, Ianto."
It wasn't the fact that Jack stood over him. It wasn't because he sounded more like he was trying to subdue his laughter than remorse. Nor was it the fact that Owen Harper had just pointed a gun at him.
It was the fact that it was cold in here. That proved to be completely intolerable. Parts of him were freezing.
"Ianto?"
Ianto tilted his head up and found Jack leaning over the counter peering down at him, his elbows on its surface, his chin propped up with both hands.
"Technically," Jack said lightly, but the smile he offered was contrite, "this was not my fault."
Ianto glowered. "Please tell me you brought my trousers out. It's cold."
Jack pouted, his lower lip lush and begging for nibbling. Ianto refused to be swayed. "What do you need your pants for?" His teeth flashed brilliantly. "I think you have nice legs and pretty feet."
It was embarrassing enough when Lisa commented on his feet. It was too strange when Jack complimented them and called them pretty-was it alright for a man to call another man 'pretty' even if it was just his feet?-that Ianto didn't know how to react except to feel heat creep up his neck and mumble "Thank you."
Ianto stayed crouched on the balls of his feet-bare feet, mind you-still wary someone might walk in on them. It was very hard to stand there radiating indignation; especially in just your shorts and in someone else's shirt.
"This is the last time I am ever getting you your coffee without getting completely dressed first, Jack Harkness." Ianto craned his neck and gave the cog doors another suspicious glance. "Never ever again!"
"I didn't know Owen was going to waltz in while you were out here!" Jack protested.
"You told him to come in early!"
"I forgot!" Jack defended himself. He smiled, his eyes smoky as he considered Ianto. "I was distracted."
Ianto flushed. Then, he growled at himself. No, he was mad at Jack; completely and utterly infuriated with him. Besides, it was nice to be able to be mad without fearing upsetting the delicate sensibilities of a girlfriend. Though Lisa often declared she wasn't a soft heart, she had the uncanny ability to turn his frustrations toward her into a bouquet of jasmine and abject apologies. Here-unless Jack burst into tears and he hoped not-Ianto found he didn't need to watch his temper. There is nothing delicate about Jack Harkness and Ianto was finding it strangely thrilling he needn't hold back.
"Sorry," Jack offered, his blue eyes sincere.
Ianto grunted, unimpressed. He continued to rummage about the cabinets. Didn't he hide some chocolate digestives behind the utensils? Damn it, Owen.
"Owen never comes in early, even when I do ask, how was I supposed to know he would actually follow orders for once?"
Ianto's head shot up. "Can you imagine what torture he would put me through if he found me like…like…" Ianto gestured towards himself and nearly threw himself off balance in the process. "This…this isn't even my shirt!"
"It looks good on you," Jack offered, the leer audible.
Ianto narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "If you're trying to convince me of your remorse, that comment does not bode well in your favor."
"You didn't have to make me coffee."
"You kept poking me awake with your finger to make coffee," Ianto snapped. "Of course I had to make the coffee!" He lowered his eyes to the cabinets before Jack's hangdog impression swayed him.
"Ianto?"
Suspicious, Ianto looked up to Jack's cheeky grin.
"That wasn't my finger."
Ianto stared at Jack for a few eye blinks and felt a flush fly up his face. Ianto ducked his head at Jack's snicker.
"I'm not talking to you right now," Ianto warned.
"Aww…"
Despite Jack's cajoling, Ianto stayed silent. He bit back a smile as Jack vainly defended himself. Finally, Jack fell into a sullen silence, his fingers absently rapping on the counter in a two-four beat until…
"Ianto?" This time, Jack sounded thoughtful.
Lifting his head up, Ianto spied Jack frowning slightly at something behind Ianto to his left. Ianto followed his gaze to the stasis jars. One jar contained a hand that wiggled hello in the bubbling liquid.
Damn.
He'd hoped Jack wouldn't notice yet. Ianto didn't know why he'd moved it. He caught Jack one night sitting on his desk, looking at it, looking lost, looking far away. And suddenly, while Jack took a shower, Ianto took it on an impulse and attached it outside with the other jar.
"Isn't that…" Jack trailed off.
Ianto hastily turned his head back towards the cabinets. Sugar. Sugar. He remembered they had some sort of sweetener here.
"Thought it might be better out here," Ianto murmured. It was the truth at least. He raised his eyes to Jack's puzzled ones. His stomach clenched. "More consistent power," Ianto said, his gaze steady on him. "There's a dedicated power source running into the column."
Jack glanced over to the column again. His eyes glazed over.
Something strange flitted across his face. "I didn't realize it was gone," Jack murmured.
Good, Ianto thought fiercely. He paused at his own vehemence. Where did that come from? "It'll be better out here," Ianto repeated.
Jack stared at it wordlessly. His brow furrowed and that uncertainty drifted over his face again.
Ianto didn't know why he hated that look; it was the same look that shrouded Jack in London while he walked behind the damn Doctor's shadow. It wasn't Jack; not the Jack who pressed close to him at night, not the Jack who smiled at him and made him feel like he was all alone in a room with Jack. No, there were many faces Ianto stroked, memorized, kissed, but that was not one of them. This Jack belonged to an alien time traveler; a lofty presence Ianto found himself trying to compete against.
"You don't have to watch it all the time," Ianto stayed low against the counters because it hurt to see that lost look on Jack's face.
"I know." Jack gave a weak disparaging laugh. "He might not ever come back."
Would that be so terrible, Ianto wanted to ask. Out loud, Ianto just made a sympathetic sound that stuck in his throat.
"I don't even know if he could fix me," Jack said, suddenly dejected.
"There's nothing to fix," Ianto muttered, getting a scoff in response.
"You know," Ianto tried to distract Jack because this talk was too depressing. "Tosh may walk in any minute. You might enjoy the view and it would probably indulge the secret exhibitionist I suspect is in you, it will probably shock the poor girl to see me this underdressed."
Jack blinked, roused as if he had been sleeping. Jack's brow smoothed over and he smiled over the counter at him, his eyes warming to a degree.
"Well, while I think Tosh could use a little excitement…" Jack reached down a hand.
Ianto begrudgingly took the help and rose to his feet. As soon as he straightened, however, Ianto started.
"Jack! For God's sake, man, get dressed!"
Jack looked down himself. He appeared baffled. "I am!"
"Throwing a shirt over yourself is not getting dressed!" Ianto yelped. No, that was not dressed, not when the thin shirt was giving Ianto generous glimpses of flawless flesh, spots still pink and glistening from his mouth, his hands, his-bollocks. It was suddenly very warm and uncomfortable standing there.
Jack pointedly looked at Ianto's crotch and then leveled his gaze at him. His mouth quirked.
Jack stood back and leaned again one of the railings. He was unashamed of his nudity, his long legs crossed and leading up to a lean, muscled torso, nicely broad shoulders, all narrowing to a bone-meltingly sweet smile. The shirt teased Ianto with peeks of Jack's cock, already matching the interest Ianto's was starting to display in his shorts.
Unfair. Utterly unfair. He was supposed to be angry with him right now. Very angry. Infuriated even. What witchcraft did Jack cast over him? Only Lisa ever drove him to primal distraction like this. His anger dissipated to another heated emotion.
Ianto's shoulders slumped. He knew when a battle was lost. He shut off the coffee for now, made his way around the kitchen area and walked right up to Jack.
The delight on Jack's face, the hopeful glint in his eyes was very infectious.
"You sure you want me to get dressed?" Jack waggled his brow.
Ianto smiled tentatively back. "Nope." He took Jack by the hand and pulled, walking back towards Jack's office, Jack following obediently behind him. He could feel Jack's glee like a heat wave on his back. By the time he shut the door to Jack's office again Jack pounced.
They never made it to the hatchway.
Act II
Additional Notes: Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.